


Love Not Less

by tortoisegirl



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Celibacy, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-07
Updated: 2010-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-18 12:50:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tortoisegirl/pseuds/tortoisegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an established relationship, Rorschach still has major intimacy issues.  Dan is sad but understanding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Not Less

Dan fidgets in the chair and wishes Rorschach would do anything, _anything_ other than this painfully uncommunicative pacing. He hasn’t spoken in five minutes. He hasn’t stopped moving either, back and forth through the kitchen, hands in his pockets then at his sides, fingers balled up then flexed out.

Dan gulps over a dry throat, and he doesn’t remember the kitchen chairs being so damn uncomfortable before. Opens his mouth to say something, only to be cut off by a sharp gesture from Rorschach.

“You,” Rorschach begins, finally. “Are attracted to me.”

No point in lying now. “Yes,” Dan answers. It surprises him how calm he is. Maybe after so long of keeping everything carefully locked away, every move and word monitored so as not to give even a hint, it’s a relief to lay everything on the table and let things take their course. Come what may. God. He could lose all of this tonight.

No reaction from Rorschach, just more pacing and fluttering hands, and he’s starting to look as if to stop moving would cause something terrible to happen. “How long.”

God, it feels like forever. He can barely remember a time in their partnership when his eyes wouldn’t wander towards his partner, his mind wander towards ideas he knows he’d be scorned for. “A while now,” he says. “A few years.”

“Never said anything. Never did anything.”

“I figured it wouldn’t go over well.” Enough, he decides. If things are going to end, let it be quick. “Look, if you don’t want to be partners anymore-”

Rorschach interrupts with a grunt that sounds almost alarmed. He (at last) comes to a stop across from Dan, facing him with the table a wide buffer in between them. His hands curl around the back of the chair. “No, I don’t want that. I-” His head falls to the side in a gesture remarkably like embarrassment. Discomfort is understandable, but this… “Daniel, I…”

Daniel sucks in a long breath as an impossible realization begins to dawn on him. “…You?” he ventures. “But you’re-” Every vitriolic rant he’s ever heard from his partner replaying in his head, but even those are suddenly recast in a different light. “You?”

The inkblots are breaking into fractured lines, struggling to form any kind of picture. From behind them, the tiniest of nods from Rorschach. Even sitting down Daniel’s hit with a wave of vertigo. “For me?” he asks haltingly, voicing what must be the more impossible of his suspicious, because for _him_ \- no, there’s no way Rorschach would _ever_ -

Another nod.

They don’t look at each other for a long while (and Daniel’s sure of that, even with the mask). From the way he’s holding onto the chair Rorschach’s knuckles must be white under the gloves.

The chair is preposterously loud against the floor as Daniel pushes back. He doesn’t miss Rorschach’s flinch as he stands. He circles the table to stand next to him, and he doesn’t miss the incredible tension in Rorschach's body as he approaches.

His hand hovers a moment before dropping onto the trenchcoated shoulder. Rorschach looks like he’s going to go to pieces. Daniel feels like he’s going to explode.

“Okay,” he says. He feels Rorschach exhale. “Okay.”

\-----

“Okay, does this hurt?” He presses firmly into the shirtcloth just below Rorschach’s shoulder blade.

Rorschach lets out a hissing breath. “No.”

“Liar." Dan pulls his hand away, palm tingling. "Nothing’s torn, though, you’ll just need to rest it for a few days.”

Rorschach gives him a short sound by way of thanks and stands to retrieve his suit jacket, shaking it out and twisting to pull it on.

Daniel decided five minutes ago he’s not going to let him get that far. As soon as Rorschach is on his feet Dan is wrapped around him, his face against his neck, running his tongue across the mask and burrowing under the scarf towards flushed skin.

Suddenly stumbling backwards with his chest stinging and needing to gasp for air. He looks up and Rorschach is poised for a fight, his breathing just as ragged as Dan’s.

“What-” Dan coughs out, “Rorschach…”

Rorschach seems to come back to himself as Daniel clutches his chest and sputters, is dropping his arms and falling out of the defensive posture. “Daniel,” he says, and he sounds unsteady. “Sorry, sorry…”

Straightening up, needing grab the pilot’s chair for support, Daniel asks, “What was that for?”

“Wasn’t expecting that. I can’t-” He falters, and Dan’s hit with a surge of guilt as he watches his partner fumble for words. Anger too, because how could he have been so monumentally stupid to corner him like that?

“I- don’t want…that,” Rorschach continues, and every word in that apologetic tone is making Dan’s stomach sink like lead. “Sorry. Not your fault.”

“God, no Rorschach- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I should’ve made sure first that you were alright with…” He lets the sentence hang, and prays he hasn’t damaged something (someone) already brittle with cracks he should have seen earlier, would have seen if he weren't so _stupid_ -

“Sorry,” Rorschach repeats. “Knew you’d want… more. Can’t- Shouldn’t have started this if I couldn’t-”

“No, Rorschach. I’m not- We’re not going to do anything you don’t want. Really. If there’s anything you want to stop, or don’t want to do at all just tell me.” He tries out a smile, hoping a little levity will help, though the heaviness in his chest foretells differently. “Or elbow me in the chest again. That always works.”

“Appreciate that,” Rorschach mutters. He sways forward, as if he wants to step into the few feet of space between them. Falls back on his heels instead. Another heartbeat of silence before he bends to collect his coat and jacket, starts pulling them on.

Dan clears his throat. “Uh, you should get some ice on your back. If you want to come back to the Nest for that…”

Rorschach snaps the coat into place over his shoulders. “Be fine on my own.”

“Yeah, alright,” Dan whispers as Rorschach hits the hatch release button. “Um. Take care, then.”

Just a brisk sound from Rorschach, and there's nothing at all to be read in it. Something terrible and cold coils in Dan's stomach.

Daniel stands there a long moment after Rorschach's left though he knows how futile waiting is, before he gives in and closes the hatch. Dropping into the pilot's chair, he buries his face in his hands.

\-----

Dan buries his hands in the comforter as Rorschach approaches the bed. He’s as naked as Dan’s ever seen him in sweatpants and an undershirt, and with that tantalizing skin so bare and so close it's far too tempting to reach out and run his hands over every scar and freckle. He adjusts the blanket carefully around his waist; this moment is too precious to risk ruining it with even a hint of his arousal.

He traces the movements as Rorschach drops his stack of clothing next to the nightstand, mask tucked under the fedora, muscles flexing under the shirt as he straightens up.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Dan tells him.

"Makes sense for me to stay," Rorschach answers, as if he's explaining the obvious. "Weather's not favorable for walking home. And tomorrow's my day off; no point in wasting time on needless travel when we can be working on the case here."

Dan shoots him a meaningful look. Rorschach keeps his eyes down as he peels back the comforter. A sigh, steeling himself. "I want to."

Fingers twisting around fabric, and his chest is so tight with emotion it almost hurts. "Well, there's always the guest room, or the couch downstairs, if you change your mind."

Rorschach looks at him now and there's a hint of emotion sketched in the lines of his face. Dan recognizes it for what is it, and appreciates it. Rorschach sits lightly on the edge of the bed, blankets bunching against his thighs, pausing as if he's not sure how this is supposed to go. Pulls his legs up and works them under the covers, then sits there upright for a moment, stiff as a board, before sliding down to the pillow. He rolls to face away from Dan and tugs the blanket up over his chest. Doesn't look at Dan during any of this, though Dan is staring openly, not even bothering to feign nonchalance anymore.

No further movement from Rorschach, so Dan clicks off the light, settles himself under the covers, and tries to ignore the throbbing between his legs.

Never has his bed felt so needlessly large before. Yet at the same time never has simply lying here felt so _right_ , because he's _here_ , and there's nothing to be done for it when Dan snakes his arm out to rest a hand on Rorschach's bicep. The muscles tense under his fingers. He doesn't let go.

"Thanks for this, man."

Rorschach makes a sound that could mean _you're welcome_ as easily as it could mean _go to sleep already_. Dan lingers for a moment longer, and allows his hand to trail over the tightened muscles of his back before pulling away.

Dan's wide awake now, tired as he was before. He watches the figure lying next to him; watches the rise and fall of his shoulders and thinks of a life lived in half-lit spaces and of things burning in the light for the first time. He watches for he doesn't know how long with his hand almost but not quite bridging the space between them, until the breathing is deep and even.

It's a long time before Dan manages to get to sleep.

\-----

It's been a long time since Dan's felt this giddy about closing out a case- probably not since they brought in Big Figure, but the serial murderer is locked up with the police and they say he'll be getting life and Dan hasn't stopped smiling since they dropped him off. Rorschach, too, hasn't even sat down, too wired with the thrill and relief of a successful finish to do anything but stalk around Archie and grow more animated than ever as they replay the night. For days now the pressure has been mounting as they closed in on their suspect, all the city's blood and fear absorbed and concentrated in them; Dan's certain Rorschach could count the hours of sleep he's had in the past three days on his fingers. It's all flooding out now like a rush of cold air, intoxicating in the release.

The Nest welcomes them back in a fold of concrete and quiet that has never been so satisfying. It seems impossible through the pins-and-needles high, but the practical part of Dan's brain is telling him that the adrenaline will fade soon enough and he really needs the sleep. He'll be feeling the long night's chase in his muscles tomorrow, but at the moment it feels right to drop out of the hatch without even lowering the ramp and take the steps to his costume locker two at a time. Tossing the goggles aside and heading for the kitchen stairs he wonders if he should bother with coffee; he doesn't need it right now but it's what they do and Rorschach might like some, when a tug on his cape stops him before his foot hits the bottom stair.

Rorschach has the mask half up and he's breathing oddly, mouth open. One of his canine teeth is chipped, Dan notices. He's half pondering this curiosity as he opens his mouth to ask what's up, when Rorschach is closing the gap between them and his mouth is against Daniel’s.

At first there's nothing but surprise and dry lips and the smell of sweat-soaked fabric. A second later the world is nothing more than a spun-glass sphere refracting black and white lights, just big enough to be filled to it's entirety by them and only them. It all crashes down on him in a wave of realization, and the only thought that floats through his mind in the rush of sensation is _Oh my god, this is worth everything._

He's still too shell-shocked to respond by the time Rorschach pulls back. Dan blinks to get his vision back in focus as the world unfolds back into its normal shape and takes a second to remember to breathe. Rorschach is taking another step back, is dipping his head and his tongue is coming out to explore his bottom lip, tasting. Tasting _him_ , oh god, as the world threatens to waver again.

"Uhhh," Dan manages.

Rorschach pulls himself out of it first. Mask settled back into place, hands at home in his pockets. "We'll start up regular patrols tomorrow."

"Uh. Uh, yeah."

A nod. "Be seeing you, then." A hand comes up to Daniel’s cape, fingers catching up the fabric for just a second before he's turning to go, down the steps and into the mouth of the tunnel.

"Right. I'll see you tomorrow," Dan calls after his retreating back. He's grinning now, as wide as the world; wide as all the space that ever spread between them, and he's pretty sure he'll be grinning all week. "Uh, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Daniel."


End file.
